


Worm X-ing

by AvatarKhepri



Category: Danny Phantom, Girl Genius (Webcomic), My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:42:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26742322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvatarKhepri/pseuds/AvatarKhepri
Summary: Just a growing collection of ideas for Worm crossovers.
Kudos: 21





	1. Gears and Gizmos (Girl Genius)

Taylor surveyed the battlefield before her. Some mile or so ahead of her lay what must usually be a beautiful city; surrounded by high walls and mountainous terrain, the city seemed to have grown around the castle that loomed overhead menacingly. It was not the most lovely sight now, of course, because it was clearly under attack by what appeared to be several different nations armies: as enemies of the city-fortress crawled up the walls like so many ants, a veritable army of robots marched towards the front gates, each one at least several stories tall, all the while, a zeppelin the size of a small town loomed overhead along with several of its apparent brethren. As she looked on, making good use of the spyglass her new...friends had loaned her, she noticed a young man wearing a badass longcoat and the scariest "mad scientist" face she'd ever seen emerging from the town...right in the path of the robot army. He appeared to be carrying some sort of technological rod of who-knows-what, and was waving it around as if he was threatening the army of robots.  
  
Hearing a snap next to her, she saw one of her new friends stowing his spyglass in one of his many pockets. The green-skinned, jagged-toothed monster man turned to her. "Hyu saw heem too, den? He look to be fallink over, don't hyu tink?" He gave a half-nod in the direction of Bitch and the rest of the Undersiders, where Rachel's dogs were currently grown to full battle-size. "Perhaps ve could get a ride? Vouldn't vant to be a burden, ov caus..."  
  
"Sure," she replied tersely, still rather put-off by the monster man's odd accent and manner. "Let's ride," she called out, slinging herself onto Brutus, where Rachel sat scowling. One of the other monster men, this one seemingly made entirely of the color purple (hair, skin, clothes, hat...), came up behind her, muttering an apology as he did. As they set out towards the obviously insane young man, she called out behind her "So...let me get this straight. It's sometime during the 1800s, Europe is being consumed by a perpetual war between mad scientist-style inventors, and this Baron guy is waging war against an insane maybe-goddess who controls people by stuffing alien bugs down their throats."  
  
"Ya."  
  
Up ahead, the young man thrust his makeshift rod skyward, calling down a bolt of lightning in a wondrous display of power that almost completely decimated the approaching army. Slightly unnerved, she continued: "And recently, the long-lost heir to an ancient line of the maddest, science-iest mad scientist families of all has returned, and is currently trying to repair her castle and city while two princes fight over her hand in marriage."  
  
"Eh...sort ov?"  
  
"...right. And you three are part of a group of monster men who willingly served this family?" she asked, even as she noticed the remainder of the robots try to attack the boy...only to get blasted a second time. They didn't get back up.  
  
"Monsters? Vell...mebbe a leetle bit. Hokay, a lot a bit. Very exciting, though, vouldn't hyu say?"  
  
Taylor ignored that for the time being, as they were quickly coming up on the young man and his nifty toy. He noticed their approach and spun towards them, pointing his literal lightning rod in their direction. As he did, he screamed "THIS IS NOT A TRICK! I DID NOT GET LUCKY! I AM GILGAMESH WULFENBACH ~~\--~~ AND I AM IN CONTROL! The young man's tirade was so loud and attention-grabbing, Taylor just barely heard Rachel's muttered reply:  
  
"Fucking Tinkers."


	2. Dying Wish (Danny Phantom)

Taylor watched on silently as the coffin was lowered into the ground; she would've cried, if she had a tear left to shed, so for now she just watched silently, letting her despair ball up inside her. Her father was certainly crying enough for the both of them, though. There weren't many people here: it was a small, private funeral, with just close family and friends, and there wasn't a dry eye among them besides her own. As the last speech began wrapping up, and her father rose to bear the coffin towards its final resting place, Taylor could only watch on silently. It's rather depressing to attend your own funeral, she decided.  
  
Unable to bear the scene unfolding before her, Taylor drifted away, out of the graveyard, down the street. Cars drove through her incorporeal body, unaware of their brief encounter with a girl whose life had been cut short far too early. As she had in the early days of her new existence, she wandered restlessly for days; sleep did not call for her, she never hungered, or even needed to breathe, and yet how she longed for such simple signs of her own continued life.  
  
The sole shred of hope she yet clung to was that, just maybe, she was the kind of lingering spirit that could continue making an impact, however small, on the corporeal world; stories of poltergeists, ghosts, and phantoms were enough to rest her hopes on, for now. And so wherever she went, she tried to do things she new those being did: moving objects, whispering from nowhere, appearing on camera or video. Alas, nothing seemed to work: her best efforts had stubbornly failed to make her solid enough to budge so much as a scrap of paper, let along send furniture flying around a room; her attempts to communicate fell on deaf ears, and not even tinker-tech seemed capable of catching her, no matter how wide a spectrum it seemed to scan.  
  
Desperate, she sought out those who delved into the occult, and watched them, hoping to chance upon some clue that might give her existence purpose once more. At last, she had a stroke of luck: some young teen was trying to summon spirits or demons or something. Taylor wasn't really paying attention, to be totally honest, because she'd been reminded of another common ghostly ability: possession. As she continued thinking through the possibilities, her train of thought was derailed by the teen in front of her slitting their wrists before laying down, eyes closed, in the center of the pentagram they'd drawn. _"Now or never,"_ Taylor thought, as she tried to will herself into the dying body before her.


	3. Dissonant Harmony (MLP: FiM)

Accord beheld the...creature...floating before him with undisguised contempt, the creature that had haunted his every waking moment for seventeen days, eighteen hours, and thirty-three minutes, or thereabout. Everything about the creature seemed to eat away at him, as if whatever apathetic deity had been blitzed enough to design such a mockery of life had done so specifically to get on his every last nerve. Worse than its appearance were its actions: the creature seemed to delight in screwing with the natural order of reality, whether it was giving every color a matching smell, melding its body with objects around the office, or something as simple as making the floor into slowly-cooling lava that failed to burn his furniture while burning away at his shoes every time he attempted to take a step. The absolute worst part, of course, was that nobody, from the lowest of minions to the most powerful Thinkers available for hire, could detect the creature at all...and yet, it was undeniably there: while they couldn't detect the creature itself, the things it did when it got bored affected everybody nearby.  
  
As the creature stared back at him with its mocking, lopsided grin, he was struck by the relative silence that had enveloped his office. Once upon a time, just a few weeks before, his office was filled with small noises; from the click-clacking of his keyboard as he typed out new plans, to the sound of his ever-loyal secretary screening calls in the room beyond, to the buzz of his phone as he was updated on the progress of various covert operations he had his Ambassadors running...all dominated by the ever-present, dependable ticking of the grandfather clock that had been passed down in his family for six generations.  
  
But now, his ringtones had all been randomized; every progress update was accompanied by some unholy assault upon his eardrums, from the sound of some large animal passing gas, to a deep gravelly voice recounting an intimate encounter with an animated ogre, to a woman shrieking loud enough to crack glass. Now, his secretary was on a vacation, until he could clear up this matter. She had cited the increasingly dangerous working conditions, that being around Accord when his eccentricities were constantly being tested couldn't be considered healthy, and in his better moments, he could hardly blame her; were he capable of escaping this creature, he would do so himself. Even the grandfather clock had been packed away in storage, both to keep it from being damaged by this creature's idle machinations, and his own furious reprisals at the former.  
  
He stared at the creature, not bothering to type up any new plans; he new the keys would rearrange themselves when he wasn't looking, rendering them all to be typed in nonsense, and the idea of typing up his plans using the inefficient "hunt and peck" method irked him nearly as much as when the creature had decided to alter how gravity worked within the office. As he stared, he contemplated the creatures form once more: Accord had come into contact with oddly bodied creatures before now; enough Changers, projection-based Masters, and Case 53s had passed through Boston for him to build up a tolerance to their irritating inconsistent forms. Even that metallic Case 53 turned Ward made for a better sight mid-absorption than this abomination did; at least when young Weld was absorbing a new metal into himself, it was a seamless weld job, as opposed to--  
  
"Bra-a-a-aa!!!!" the creature burst out in a braying mockery of the concept of laughter, doubling over mid-air as its form shook. "You can't imagine how much I _adore_ a good pun!" Accord's hands clenched hard enough that they shook from his fury; even the creatures voice was infinitely irritating, putting emphasis on the wrong part of nearly every word, changing accents mid-sentence, and all in a soothing tenor pitch that contrasted everything else about the creatures existence. "Awwww, and here I was starting to suspect you were warming up to me," it said in a mournful tone...a deception betrayed by the creatures ever-present smirk, as if delighting in a joke that nobody else was privy to. "Tell me, why do people ask 'a penny for your thoughts'? Even if you ignore the relative absurdity of putting a price on an opinion, another common expression puts the value of thoughts at two cents. I tell you, what kind of person offers to pay you for something, when you both fully well know that what they seek to purchase is worth twice what they're offering for it?"  
  
Accord ignored its remarks, refusing to be shaken from his train of thought. Most capes with Changer ratings had a certain aesthetically pleasing note to their change. It was a gradual process, one he had often compared to observing water flowing downhill, as if the Changer's new form was washing away the old them, revealing the new version underneath. Monstrous capes, as loathsome as they could be, at least tended to fit some kind of theme; even that slimy slug in Brockton Bay did not inexplicably sprout wings. Even the Simurgh, loathsome though she may be for her actions, at least had the courtesy to blend crystalline feathers into an ivory humanoid form without it appearing anything less than beautiful. But this?  
  
This loathsome beast appeared to have been several different creatures that had been chopped up and glued back together haphazardly, or as if some anthropomorphic action figures with removable limbs had been put back together by a child with a hatred for the concept of intelligent design. If any deity had a hand in this creature's creation, it was a mad god; more likely, it was a group of mad gods, each with a burning hatred for every other deity's particular brand of madness.  
  
Its main body was covered in a cardboard-like substance masquerading as fur, but the crinkling that accompanied its every twist and turn betrayed this ruse; one leg appeared to be a solid piece of bone that had a scale pattern etched into it by a drunken toddler, and ended in a cloven hoof; the other leg bore actual scales of a bright lime-green color present on no other part of the creature. Its long tail whipped back and forth, giving the illusion of scales when it was actually covered in some kind of fur made rigid by what had to be years of unwashed grime and muck. The creature's forelimbs were similarly mismatched: one was akin to a bird's leg, if birds had evolved legs with thumbs...or legs where arms should be...or legs a solid foot longer than an arm should be; the other forelimb appeared to be a human arm, albeit of a shade of yellow the likes of which had never been seen in nature on any human, or ape for that matter. The head bore a resemblance to a goat, particularly with the left horn and stubby goatee, but its snout protruded too far down, its eyes were _far_ too large, its eyebrows appeared to continue on past the edge of its skull, and the other horn bore more resemblance to an antler than anything else. Even the creatures maw was a nightmare: no two teeth seemed sized to each other, particularly the large upper canine that seemed to switch which side it was on...and of course, that the damn thing never stopped smiling at him, as if delighting in his agony, made the whole thing even worse.  
  
The creature shifted, its laughter subsiding as it snapped its fingers; a teapot appeared, as the creature began pouring two cups of some oily, white liquid that smelled quite foul. As it offered one cup to him, it drained its own cup...its eyes descending down its face to rest on its neck, that it could continue to stare him down while gulping down its drink. Accord declined the cup, refusing the let the creatures complete disregard for the laws of reality prevent him from being as courteous as he could manage. It shrugged, before downing the second glass as well; both were subsequently thrown through the window, causing some kind of technicolored explosion in the streets down below. It cocked its head at him, as if curious to his lack of reaction.  
  
Eventually, the creature summoned a Lazy Boy covered in scorch marks, and took a seat opposite Accord. It's grin remained, even as Accord's fingers hovered over buttons leading to various traps. Just barely, he restrained himself; he new from far too many attempts that this abomination was, if not immortal, at the very least extremely resistant to most any form of harm, and was nigh untouchable to boot. It giggled at his inner turmoil, before speaking once more: "As fun as all this has been, I think it's been long enough that it's high time I got to the point."   
  
Accord cocked one eyebrow, scarcely believing his ears; could the end of his torment be so close? "Done playing games, are we?"  
  
It tittered once more, causing Accord to twitch; even its laughter was an inconsistent, unpleasant mess. "Oh, I'm _never_ done playing games...but what good is a game without some kind of goal? Not very fun, I'd imagine, if nobody can ever win..." the creature mused, its head cocking to one side as if deep in thought.  
  
"The point."  
  
"Ah yes, the point! To cut a long story short, there is a...being...on this planet that gets under my skin something fierce. A feeling I assume you can sympathize with. Unfortunately, their arrival resulted in the death of the only beings I've ever considered friends, and it's left me in a... _vengeful_ mood."  
  
"So you believe I can help you get revenge on this being? And your attempt to convince me is to do everything in your power to make me despise you?" Accord asked.  
  
It waved him off. "I'm getting to that part, but we're not there yet. You see, while I cannot get vengeance on this being myself, due to it being quite a ways out of my weight class, I have access to a weapon that could blast it to kingdom come."  
  
Waving its bird-claw hand, six crystals of indescribable quality appeared on his desk in front of him; Accord nearly lost himself in the aesthetic perfection of each crystals cut, as if something within them called out to him.  "Why not wield this weapon yourself?" he asked, after a fashion.   
  
Another round of brayed laughter answered him. "Me, wield the Elements? Ah, what a jest...no, no, no, it would never work. They are..." the being paused, as if searching for the right words. "...their power, rather, is...antithetical to my own, but far greater. Indeed, other than the being that destroyed my friends, these collective crystals are the only weapon in existence that could possibly take me down." Accord could feel his heart in his throat; a way to destroy this monster, within his grasp? "Oh yes, they could take me out quite easily," the creature replied, as if reading his thoughts. "By all means, hit me with your best shot!" it cried out, splaying its arms wide as it thrust its chest forward.  
  
Without hesitating for a second, Accord picked up all six crystals; as soon as he made contact, he could practically _feel_ the power emanating from the, especially when in close contact with each other. Unfortunately, no matter how he pushed at that power, nothing happened. "Having a bit of trouble?" the creature asked, its voice once more taking on the sarcastically mournful tone, mocking his efforts. "Of course you are; I wouldn't be here if you could use them. I couldn't! It breaks the rules of the game, for me to seek out the bearers before they know the power they wield."  
  
"Unfortunately, when there's nobody looking for the power, and nobody seeking out those that can wield it but me, well...it means the power can't be used, and nobody can direct it against that _loathsome_ \--" it paused, appearing to rein itself in. "So here are the rules of this game between the two of us: you will use whatever resources you have at your disposal...within reason, to avoid upsetting your ever-so-precious criminal empire...to find those worthy of bearing this power; when all six bearers have been given the power, and work together, they can take on any foe this planet has to offer...including the one that killed the previous bearers in a foul backstab...and including me."  
  
Accord mulled over this deal; it was...quite unfavorable. Even without knowing the parameters for wielding these weapons, tracking down and convincing six people would divert significant resources away from his more important operations. "I assume that you will continue to bother me, until this is completed? What, pray tell, am I getting out of this deal?"  
  
"Indeed I will. Truthfully, I may continue afterward, if I'm able; bothering you is _soooooo_ much fun. But then, if you succeed, you'll use them against me, and I won't be able to bother you anymore. And what do you get? You get a weapon that cannot be resisted, and credit for taking out a being that threatens to destroy your world."  
  
Accord mused over the offer. "And your gratitude," he eventually said.  
  
"I suppose so."  
  
Accord nodded. "I have a few stipulations. Firstly, you will cease stymieing my affairs; I can hardly accomplish anything when the world is going to chaos around me."  
  
It regarded him. "I suppose I can...back off a bit. I won't stop completely, it's too much fun, and if you're going slow about things, I'll ramp up the pranks appropriately, but as long as you stay the course, I will...contain the chaos, to a degree."  
  
Accord nodded; it was, very likely, the best he would get. "Secondly, for every...bearer located and convinced to join, you will provide a favor in kind; you're clearly a highly capable reality warper, it would hardly be taxing on your abilities."  
  
"A favor...very well, a favor, within reason of course."  
  
"Finally, I want to know what I'm going up against; if I'm going to dedicate myself and my resources to this beings destruction, having the time to plan ahead is vital to success."  
  
It cocked its head once more. "The one you call 'Scion' is the one responsible. And this weapon, with six bearers, is all you'll need."  
  
Accord stared at him, and then at the crystals once more. The creature stared at him, its gaze never wavering. Eventually, Accord looked up once more. "Then I accept your deal, creature," he said, extending an arm to shake its hand.  
  
The creature shook his hand, thankfully with its more human arm. "Since we'll be working together for some time, I figure you should know: for what little I imagine it's worth, my name is Discord."  
  
Accord stared at him. "You came to me just because of my name, didn't you?"  
  
It shrugged, grinning all the while. "I came to you because if I took it to anybody else, it would take a lot longer to annoy them into compliance. But yes, I must admit the pun was too tempting to pass up."  
  
The words left his mouth before he could stop them. "What pun?"  
  
Discord chuckled. "What do you get when you combine chords?" he asked, giggling to himself. " _Harmony."_


End file.
